Once Upon a Time
by NotMarge
Summary: There once was a beauty and a beast. And no, since you ask, they didn't get together. Plus lots and lots of other stuff. Spanning the gulf between X-Men: Apocalypse and X-Men: Dark Phoenix.
1. Once Upon a Time

I do not own X-Men anything.

And yes, despite it all, I still love Hank.

Once Upon a Time

* * *

"Da-_ddy_ . . . Da-_ddy_ . . . Wake up, Daddy . . ."

Something furry nuzzled his sleeping face.

Fur that wasn't his fur.

_Mmm, fhxihrnifur-_

A soft sweet voice in his ear, girlish, and very young.

Hank McCoy opened his eyes.

Orange pupil-ed eyes, that had no need of eyeglasses.

Prescription, anyway.

Those eyes that beheld . . .

"Good morning, Daddy!"

. . . his baby girl.

"Hey, pumpkin."

Dampled in morning sunlight and youth and hope.

Blue and furry and curiously-eyed, just like her daddy.

Smart as a whip and sweet and kind.

Just like . . .

"Hello, darling."

. . . her mother.

"Hey, Mommy!"

The feral girl-child, all of five and a half years old, clambered up onto the bed.

Grinding her daddy's kibbles and bits under an errant knee.

"Oof-"

And elbowing her mother's unbridled mammary glands-

"Ouch!"

-for good measure.

"Sorry."

But they loved her . . .

"It's okay."

"Just be gentle, honey."

. . . all the same.

She snuggled down between them, all sleep and sweet and uncombed fur.

And they cuddled her and kissed her.

"Morning."

"Good morning."

And greeted one another as well.

"Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah. You?"

"Mmm-hmm."

Perhaps not as ardently as they might have had the child not been present.

"I slept well too!"

"I know, we could hear you snoring."

"Daddy! I do not _snore_!"

But happily enough all the same.

"Well, how do you know? You were asleep!"

Confident child, more than he had ever felt.

"Because little girls do _not_ snore."

"Mmh, is that so?"

"Yep! Would you make pancakes?"

* * *

The pancakes were delicious.

Full of syrup and sugar and butter.

And love.

Cut into the shapes of stars-

". . . and garters, you're going to be late for school!"

"Daddy, it's Saturday! Not even Professor X makes us go to school on Saturdays!"

. . . and other planetary bodies.

"Does he not?"

"Nope!"

Mild consideration over the fresh-squeezed orange juice.

"Well then, what should we do today?"

Wifely pat on the bottom as she edged past toward a second cup of Folgers.

"I'm in favor of going back to bed and getting some exercise."

Giggle from star-stuffed little mouth.

"Mommy, you don't exercise in bed!"

Lightly salacious wink not directed at the unassuming child.

"You can if you do it right."

Redirecting now toward the child.

"Finish up and go brush your fangs, baby girl."

When the child was gone, Hank McCoy's wife eased herself onto her husband's now seated lap, making him forget all about his own regularly-shaped pancakes.

"Have I told you this morning how much I love you?"

He grinned at her, gently twirling strands of her dark hair that had escaped its messy, quick bun.

"Not yet," he purred.

She smiled, dark eyes bright and mischievous even so early in the morning.

"Well, I do. I love you."

Even after all these years together, his heart warmed and swelled in his chest at the admonition.

"Say it again."

Smiling, amicable surresh.

"I love you, Hank. I love you more than I could ever tell you. And I'll love you every day of my life. Forever."

She ducked her head down to kiss him.

Him.

Hank McCoy.

The Beast.

The Freak.

The Weirdo.

The man.

"I love you too," he muttered through soft, sweet kisses. "I love you so much, -"

* * *

And then the alarm went off.

Just as it did every morning.

Jerking him out of sleep. And dreams.

Slamming him into a reality he had not asked for.

Had never asked for.

A reality . . .

_Okay, I'm conscious._

. . . alone.

A blue-furred hand stole out from under the covers.

Pressed the 'off' button on the blasted thing.

Gifting him with silence once more.

Hank McCoy, Super Genius, lifted himself heavily off the mattress.

And sat himself on the edge of the bed.

That bed that was too empty.

And stared at the floor.

_What day is it?_

And looked at his watch.

_Tuesday._

_Okay._

And stood up.

* * *

Feral mutant beasts aren't really required to attend to their personal hygenie.

Who's going to tell them otherwise?

And Hank cut a decent enough swath that nobody would have really noticed anyway.

But it made him feel civilized to do it.

Human.

Good.

Well, better.

And so he did.

He showered, in human form so he wouldn't feel all frizzy and waterlogged all day.

Used deodorant in human form.

And brushed his teeth.

In human form.

Just because he could choose to.

Then he dressed himself neatly in whatever he found in the closet, organized by color . . .

_I don't care what Jubilee says. That is not a color found in nature._

_And no, it does not go with my eyes._

. . . and left the room.

* * *

Toast and orange juice jogged his brain along a little as Peter . . .

"Hey, man, did you know were out of Pepsi? I don't know who's in charge of the important stuff around here but Pepsi should be on some list or something-"

. . . Maximoff made a pass through.

And then he just stared out the window.

And prepared himself to face another day.

Alone.

* * *

But a member of Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters . . .

"Hey, Professor-"

"Good morning."

"Hi, Dr. McCoy!"

"Good morning."

"Yo, Dr. Beast-"

"Hi again, Peter-"

. . . is never truly alone.

"Hank, may I see you in my study please?"

"Sure, Charles."

Not even when they want to be.

* * *

**Hello, everyone! Long time, no see!**

**I've decided I'm going to try to span the gulf between Apocalypse and Dark Phoenix. And it's not going to be easy but I've decided to give it whirl.**

**Everybody's got opinions about these movies and I'm sure you do too.**

**Care to talk?**

**Everybody appreciates feedback. Leave a review if you like. :)**


	2. Our Professor, Our Protector

I do not own X-Men anything.

And yes, despite it all, I still love Hank.

Once Upon a Time

Our Professor, Our Protector

* * *

It had been over a year since the near-decimation of the entire world at the hands of the supposed First Mutant.

His hair had not grown back.

He was learning to accept that.

They had spent much time talking, his new X-Men and he.

Working through the events that had transpired.

Those events and the lingering anxieties and psychological ill effects . . .

". . . - fears, anything of that nature, Peter?"

"Not exactly, Prof. I mean, yeah, it sucked and all but . . . what are the odds of _that_ happening again, right?"

. . . some of them _might_ have been grappling with.

It had been a traumatic experience, for sure.

One that required time to process and work through.

Even for Charles himself . . .

"No!"

. . . who still awoke in a cold sweat from time to time.

But it was finally . . .

". . . getting better, Charles?"

"Yes, Moira, thank you. And yourself?"

Soft chuckle over the phone line.

"Sometimes I feel like I could sleep for days. Sometimes I feel like I'll never be able to sleep well again."

. . . improving somewhat.

Some days.

So he was learning to accept the less savory parts . . .

"Would you, uh, would you like to come down to the school this weekend? See how everyone is getting on?"

"Oh. Charles. I'm sorry, I can't. I have to work."

. . . of his daily existence.

As well as the continued uselessness of his legs.

And the fact that the creature who had once been his personally adopted sister always seemed to be . . .

". . . right, Charles. Mutants aren't supposed to be put on this earth for the sole purpose of protecting the humans. It makes us subservient to them!"

. . . somewhat put out with him.

_Sigh_.

"Raven, how many times must we have this conversation? The reason we protect the humans is because-"

"We'll have this conversation as many times as it takes for you to realize that you are selling your own people short in favor of a species that are so full of themselves that they would destroy us in a second if they could only figure out _how_, Charles!"

"Raven-"

"And one day, they will!"

And she would be gone.

In a tizzy, in a huff.

Again.

_I swear, I just don't know what gets into her._

It was as if all of his teaching, all of his moral guidance toward her all throughout their early years had been lost.

Tossed away.

Overtaken.

And he knew who the real culprit was.

Erik.

Erik Lensherr, with his rhetoric and his absolutism.

And his unfailing acceptance and celebration of Raven's individuality and power.

Something Charles had realized too late, that he himself had failed her in.

* * *

And Erik, who, after all these years, was once again, was continuing his mission.

Self-assigned . . .

"We make our own!"

. . . and declared on that destroyed Cuban beach so long ago.

His own society, hidden away.

A place for mutants to live, ignored and safe and unmolested by the rest of the world who didn't understand or accept them.

There, where they could form their own laws, their own community.

Their own Brotherhood of Mutants.

He had spoken of it to Charles before he had gone.

"I'm leaving, old friend."

Quiet and reverential over a final game of chess.

"I thought you might. You never liked to stay in one place for very long."

White pawn to black pawn.

"That's all changing now."

Black queen to white rook.

"Is it?"

White pawn to black knight.

"I'm going in search of a safe haven, a place for our kind to exist apart from the humans."

Charles nodded.

"It's what you've always wanted."

Erik's face revealed no emotion.

"You could come with me if you like. Leave all this behind."

Charles didn't bother to scoff.

"Leave all this behind? The children? The teachers? All the work still to be done to mend our relationship with the humans?"

He shook his head, retaining his chosen mild demeanor.

"No, my friend. I could not, ever, abandon them. Not in their darkest hour. Or mine. Not ever again."

Black rook to white king.

"Yes, I surmised as much."

And that . . .

"Checkmate."

. . . had been that.

He had been mildly surprised Raven had not gone with him.

Of course Erik _had_ tried to kill her.

Which, even for one so emotionally stoic, still did put a damper on any type of relationship the two of them might have further had.

And no others had braved . . .

"But . . . but . . . I have homework."

. . . to go with him.

_Shocking. They're _children_, Erik._

_Even the ones who aren't._

* * *

And so Erik Lensherr had left.

"How are things, Hank?"

And Hank McCoy had stayed.

Hank McCoy.

His oldest remaining friend, besides Erik.

And Raven.

The only ones still left alive.

Hank, who had experienced quite a challenging last few years himself.

"Fine. What can I do for you, Charles?"

But seemed to be on the mend, so to speak.

"Tell me about the training. How is the Danger Room coming along?"

One could never be too sure of what thoughts were in his head.

He played his emotions so close to the vest.

Especially since his . . . well, all of their, loss.

And Charles had sworn never to read his, or any, mind again without permission.

Or absolute necessity.

"It's fine. Raven is-"

Ah yes.

Raven.

And Hank.

He had thought there might be something between them, once upon a time.

Had thought that would be a good thing.

Before Erik had captured and entranced Raven's mind and heart.

And she had left.

Returned.

And left again.

And then after the dust from En Sabba Nur had cleared, they had been reunited to stay.

All of them that were left, at any rate.

For a time.

And Hank had . . .

"I don't want to work with her, Charles!"

. . . protested.

Much to Charles' disappointment.

"Hank, we all must band together now in order to survive and protect each other. I'm asking you to find a way to make it work. Please."

And Hank . . .

_Aren't you _glad _she's home, Hank?_

. . . had removed himself from Charles' presence.

And done just that.

And even though things had not been perfect in the year following the near destruction of the world due to god-like hubris . . .

". . . me and I said if you lay one finger on me, I'm gonna make you sorry-"

. . . Charles Xavier believed that they were finally beginning to reach some sort of . . .

". . . new prospects I'd like to check out, Hank."

. . . tentative equilibrium as a family . . .

". . . class for a few days . . ."

. . . of mutants.

"Professor! Professor! Tell him that women could rule the world just as well as men!"

Hopefully.

"Well, actually, Teresa, you are quite correct. History has shown us . . ."

* * *

**For me, it was clear from the latest movie that at the beginning, Charles is slightly deluded regarding the feelings of some of the mutants he is connected to.**

**Care to discuss?**

**Thanks to brigid1318 for reading and reviewing!**

**Thanks also to the silent readers as well. :D**


	3. Stir Crazy

I do not own X-Men anything.

And yes, despite it all, I still love Hank.

Once Upon a Time

Stir Crazy

* * *

And life wasn't all that bad for some people.

"Happy birthday, Jean."

"Oh, Scott, roses. Thank you."

Worse . . .

"Oh my god, Michael Jackson's hair caught on _fire_!"

"Shut up, you're kidding!"

"No seriously, he was doing a Pepsi commercial and it just went up!"

"You're making this up!"

"I can't!"

"Seriously? Oh my god, so is he a burnt up zombie now or what?"

"What?"

"You know, Thriller?!"

"Oh my god, shut up!"

. . . for others.

And downright tragic and frustrating . . .

". . . news, Charles? Your humans you love so much are killing children. _Human_ children."

. . . for a select few.

"Yes, Raven. I saw."

"At their schools, Charles."

"I know, Raven."

"What do you think they will do to us? Given half a chance."

"Yes, I know, Raven."

"So why are you insisting on colluding with them, Charles?"

"_Talking_, Raven."

"Groveling."

"What would you have me do? This is our only world and we inhabit it together."

"We don't have to."

"And just what are you insinuating?"

"Don't bow to the humans, Charles. They'll only step on you while you're down there."

* * *

". . . crapfest the big guy left behind, Professor."

And it wasn't just about mutants versus humans either.

"Well, yes, Scott, it is a problem, but . . ."

Even though sometimes it was.

And sometimes, it wasn't even about mutants versus mutants either.

". . . more beautiful than all the stars in all the galaxies . . ."

Although sometimes it was about that too.

"Yeah, sure, Kurt, I get that she's hot and that but . . ."

Sometimes, straight up and not simple at all, . . .

"Professor? Mrs. Estelle said to let you know we've got some missing pantry inventory."

. . . it was about mutants versus themselves.

"Alright, thank you, Billy. I'll see to it."

* * *

Despite everything she had endured and perhaps because of it, Ororo Munroe on the other hand . . .

"Hey, Storm, want to come shoot pool?"

"Maybe later, I have to get to chem class."

"But . . . _pool_ . . ."

"Learning! Do you know, in my country, only the wealthy are allowed to learn? Here it is open to everyone! Even mutants!"

"Jeez, maybe I better go to chem class."

"You don't take chem class."

"Maybe I should."

"Yeah, maybe you should."

. . . was having the time of her life.

* * *

As the humans strove to rebuild their world amid a renewed fear of mutants . . .

"We are grateful for all you have done, Professor Xavier. However, these mutants who aided and abetted this En-Saba-Nur, they were undocumented. They came out of nowhere and meant to destroy our world and harm and enslave the entire human race. We had no knowledge and still don't of their remaining whereabouts. A required registration for all persons with extraordinary abilities would allow us to keep track of any and all dangerous mutants that might mean us harm in the future."

"I'm sorry Mr. Secretary, but I cannot agree to support such a restriction. Mutants already fear for their lives in the wake of this tragedy even more so than before."

"Professor Xavier, you have lead us to believe that you and others like you are willing to cooperate with us. Peacefully."

"Yes, I have. But these mutants have not asked for these powers and many of them simply wish to live in the world without fear of persecution."

"Was it not persecution what happened only months ago in Egypt?!"

"Mr. Secretary, I really must beg that you reconsider-"

. . . Charles Xavier strove to both rebuild the physical and mental stability of his safe haven for all mutant children.

As well as maintain the civility between the factions of dominant species of human and mutant.

"Professor Xavier, you have to realize-"

"I am sorry, Mr. Secretary, I truly am. But on this issue, I will not be swayed."

Both out in the world.

* * *

And close to home.

Directly after the cataclysm, Charles had sequestered staff and students alike to the grounds and house out of concern and the very real threat of the distrought humans.

And it had not been . . .

". . . mall, Professor?"

"Not today, please."

. . . easy.

"Please?"

"No, Kurt."

And the mutants . . .

"Just for a few hours?"

"No."

. . . were as easy a target for their fear/blame as anyone.

"But Professor, I . . ."

"No."

And so the mutants residing in Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters had . . .

"Please?"

"No, I'm afraid not."

. . . gone into hiding.

"But I promise I'll be good!"

Compassionate but firm shake of the head.

"I know. I know that, Kurt. It's not your potential behavior that concerns me. It's the humans'. They've experienced quite a terrifying ordeal at the mind of one of the most powerful mutants on earth. And they may, however unfair, redirect their fear and confusion onto you. I can't risk your safety, Kurt, not the safety of any of mutant in my charge."

"But if they attacked us, we could just use our powers, right? Just long enough to get away, you know?"

"And what sort of effect do you think that would have on them, Kurt? It would serve to terrify them all the more. They might do something rash that would most likely affect all of us. Negatively, I dare say. I can't take that chance. I'm sorry."

"But that's so unfair, Professor!"

"I know. I know it is, Kurt. But that is the way it has to be. For now."

So they had stayed.

A day.

A week.

A month.

And they had almost killed each other.

"Stupid something somewhere else!"

"Yeah, well, you blah, blah, blah!"

"Children, please! What is going on?"

Pretty much a typical day in the world of mutant teenagers.

Only escalating for more that previously.

"I think they need to get out of the house, Professor."

"You know they can't do that, Peter. It's not safe out there."

Twenty-seven year old Peter Maximoff.

Casual. Calm.

Cool.

Slurping down Tab.

Nodding.

Casting a pointed eye about the general area.

"Not really too safe in here though, is it?"

Irritated, slightly huffy Charles Xavier.

Who knew the young man was right.

"No, I don't suppose it is. If only they'd act their _age_."

Raised eyebrow from the grounded speedster.

"They _are_, man."

* * *

So he had let them out.

With ground rules.

Never alone.

Only on the weekends.

And always alert an adult to your intended whereabouts.

And that was okay.

That worked.

They went. They came back.

Most of them didn't even really _want_ to leave anyway.

Unless The Karate Kid was playing at the local cinema.

Or Sixteen Candles.

Or Star Trek.

They just wanted to know that they _could_ leave.

Sometimes it worked well.

". . . and the Temple of Doom!"

"No way!"

Sometimes . . .

"Calm down, Kurt. Calm down and tell me exactly what happened."

Tear-filled yellow eyes, face that could never blush with shame or humiliation.

. . . it didn't.

"They . . . threw things at me, Professor! They threatened me and threw things!"

Charles Xavier's face pulled down into a frown.

"Please, Kurt. From the beginning, if you will."

The teenager, now mute with misery, simply shook.

_May I?_

Silent nod.

_"Hey. I'm Jenny."_

_"Hi."_

_"You're a mutant, aren't you?"_

_"Yeah. I'm Kurt. I'm blue."_

_"Were you one of the ones that fought against that big crazy guy in Egypt?"_

_"Yeah."_

_"Oh. Cool. So you and your friends, like, saved us."_

_"Uh, yeah."_

_"Awesome. Hey, you want to go get a soda?"_

_"Uhhh, sur-"_

_"Hey! Hey you! Get away from my daughter, you mutant freak! She's not some who-"_

Kurt's eyes filled with tears as the memory surged in his mind.

"He _threw_ things at me, Professor! Yelled at me. He _threatened_ me!"

Charles Xavier felt his heart leaden with sorrow.

"Oh Kurt, I'm so sorry."

A moment to allow grief.

"But I did ask you not to leave the school grounds, did I not? This is precisely the sort of altercation I was trying to prevent-"

"So you're _blaming_ him because the humans are small-minded idiots?!"

"Please excuse us, Raven, we're having a private conversat-"

"No, _Charles_, I will not _excuse_ you! You're teaching him to hide from the humans! You're teaching him that what he was doing was wrong!"

"No, I simply-"

"Yes, you _were_! You're blaming this _child_-"

"I'm not a child-"

"-for the actions of an _adult_!"

"Raven, please. We should discuss this in private-"

"_Why_? It happened to _him_, why wouldn't we discuss it with _him_-"

"Raven-"

* * *

Not that sometimes there seemed like much good to go out into the world for.

". . . Satanic rituals. God, what a bunch of morons."

"What are you two talking about, please?"

"The humans. Their teachers are, like, using the kids in, like, Satanic rituals, something."

"What?"

* * *

". . . serial killer or something?"

"Yeah. I figured it was too cold to do stuff like that in Alaska."

"Too dark too."

"Pardon, what are you talking about?"

* * *

"Can't go to McDonald's anymore now."

"I know, right? I mean, it's called a 'Happy' Meal for a reason, man."

"That is an incredible insensitive statement."

"Oh hey, Professor. Sorry."

* * *

"The kids see what the humans are doing to each other, Charles."

"Yes, it is all over the news, isn't it?"

"And they see how you're pushing aside all of their brutalities and atrocities and trying to make everyone hold hands and sing Coom-Bye-Me."

"Kumba- . . . never mind. Raven-"

"Save it, Charles. They can see your folly. And one day they will resent you for it."

* * *

While the others were fighting battles out in the big global world and the smaller northern New York state area . . .

"Scott seems to be doing well with his new visor."

. . . Hank McCoy was fighting a much, much smaller battle . . .

"Yes."

. . . inside his own mind and soul.

"We'll be out of sentinels by the end of the week if he keeps this up."

Between his life.

"Yeah."

And the life that kept trying to . . .

"Good night, Hank."

. . . encroach itself upon him.

"Good night, Raven."

Without his express permission.

* * *

They had a . . . working relationship.

Hank and Raven.

At the behest of Charles Francis 'Can't We All Just Get Along' Xavier.

And Hank was . . . managing.

They trained the mutants deemed mature . . .

"Mature, huh? Well, gee, Prof, I don't really know if that's a compliment or an insult. You know-"

"Yes, thank you, Peter, I'm sure you'll do swimmingly."

. . . and responsible . . .

"But I don't _want_ to use my powers, Professor. I could hurt someone with them."

"And that's exactly why I would like you to practice, Jean. So that you can learn to control them and use them for good."

. . . and usable enough for the team.

"Really? Me?"

"Yes, Kurt. Your power is extraordinary."

So they did.

He and Raven.

In the Danger Room.

Perhaps not daily.

But

And it was . . . confusing.

Uncomfortable.

Unnerving.

His cells, his very DNA, were linked to hers.

Permanently, forever.

Unchanging.

But like a man who has discovered that his beloved nicotine-laced cigarettes contain poisonous substances harmful to man, Hank had gone cold turkey.

Forever.

And was not . . .

"How are you getting on, Hank?"

. . . ever . . .

"Fine, Charles."

. . . going back.

"And how is Raven?"

_I don't care._

"You'll have to ask her, Charles. I don't speak for her. She speaks for herself. You know that."

"That's not what I mean, Hank."

_I know what you meant. Chuck._

_And I don't want to talk about it, okay?_

Not in this lifetime anyway.

* * *

But all in all . . .

"Well, Reagan's President again."

. . . they all seemed to be . . .

"Better than John Wayne."

. . . trudging along . . .

"I cannot believe you're still doing this."

. . . as best . . .

"Yeah, it's kind of my thing."

. . . as they all could.

* * *

**Kind of a mess, isn't it? I wish I could hide in the X-Mansion sometimes.**

**Thank you, brigid1318, for reviewing previously. :)**

**Let's see what we can get up to next.**


	4. Everybody's Got A Mission

I do not own X-Men anything.

And yes, despite it all, I still love Hank.

Once Upon a Time

Everybody's Got a Mission

* * *

The running and upkeep of a mansion is a consuming and arduous task.

Much less a school of castoff, hormonally charged, mutant children.

There was the feeding . . .

"Okay, morning and evening meals're buffet style in the dining room. Lunch is sandwiches, trust me, on tuna days just starve . . ."

. . . the housing . . .

"Boys' wing to the left, girls' wing to the right, if you get lost, send up a flare. Oh, and you'll probably have a roommate unless your superpower is Deadly Morning Breath or something . . ."

. . . the laundering . . .

". . . cuddly bear fabric softener but don't use too much or the place will flood like crazy. Oh, and don't forget to turn off the iron when you're done . . ."

. . . the cleaning . . .

". . . chores but they're not too bad. Mostly our rooms and we take turns giving our assigned bathrooms a once over . . ."

. . . and the repairing of the structure itself.

"Hey, uh, do you know where I can score some Super Glue?"

"No. Why?"

Thankfully most of the children were so grateful for the change in scenery . . .

". . . -work next to that old busted tree Scott Summers destroyed."

". . . yeah, what with all the super powers around here, you think we'd have, like, The Duct Taper, to fix that or something . . ."

. . . the acceptance . . .

"Dude, that is so cool! Do it again!"

"Really?"

"Yeah!"

. . . and the protection from misunderstanding humans . . .

". . . any adult and we can help you, yes?"

"Okay, Professor. Thanks."

. . . that they really didn't complain too much about the chores, homework, and abundance of steamed vegetables and mashed potatoes on their evening dishes.

* * *

Not unlike the House Elves that had not yet been created by J.K. Rowling yet, there were many mutants working behind the scenes at Xavier Manor that nobody really noticed much.

"Good morning, Mrs. Hamford."

"Good morning, Professor."

More than ever before.

"Wilson, good to see you."

"Good to see you, Professor."

Due to student enrollment being higher than it ever had before.

"It smells delicious in here, Mrs. Estelle."

"Why thank you, Professor. Care for a biscuit?"

Which just left one more vital element to bear in the Running of The Manor.

"Yeah, no, I'd love for her to have a place she can learn to . . . control her, uh . . ."

"Powers."

"Yeah. It's just that, well, I'm a janitor. My wife is a teacher. We don't have enough money to pay for something like that."

Financing.

"Please allow that to be my concern, Mr. Richards. We have contingencies for situations such as this."

"Really? And she wouldn't be . . . slaved or . . . sold in any way?"

"Goodness no. I assure you, she will be cared for here with the utmost respect and decency here, I assure you."

Charles Francis Xavier's family was filthy, stinking rich.

Not as much as they once had been, for sure.

But enough to keep the school going for the immediate and distant future.

So long as . . .

". . . going to go through the roof, Professor."

"You let me deal with the insurance company, thank you."

. . . the students didn't completely wreck the place.

* * *

And there was absolutely no way there was not going to be some sort of damage incurred . . .

"Scott! Sentinel!"

"Got it!"

. . . with the X-Men training going on somewhere below the basketball court.

_Zap!_

"Scott! Narrower beam next time! You nearly burned my face off!"

"Well, get out of the way then!"

"I can't; I've got to be ready to disable the bomb! Kurt!"

"Ready!"

_Bamphf!_

"Let's see if he actually-"

_Bamphf!_

"Hey, you got it back in one piece!"

"Yeah, what did you-"

"Less talk, more focus!"

"We're trying, it's just-"

_Snicckk-_

"You're dead."

"What?! That's not fair! You just snuck up behind-"

Red-visored mutant boy knocked to the ground, menacing blue-skinned mutant leader looming above.

"Hey!"

"Raven!"

Blunted knife clenched in her scaly fist.

"Stop simulation."

Power down.

Sentinels frozen in stasis.

Lights brightening in the windowless domed room below Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters.

And Raven Darkholme's deadly, flat voice.

"Your enemy's not going to be fair. You saw that in Egypt. He's not going to wait until you catch your breath to walk up from behind and pike you in the spine."

Unblinking, reptilian yellow eyes.

"If you hesitate, if you don't work with your team and focus every bit of your energy on everything around you with razor sharp precision, you will fail and you will die."

"Raven-"

"No. If you can't learn to follow direction and shoot to kill, you'll be the direct cause of the death of your teammates. Is that what you want?"

The boy's hidden eyes were sullen.

"No."

She drilled him into the floor for a second longer.

"Then get your act together."

Before turning away.

"Or you're off the team."

And directing another command.

"Again, Hank."

* * *

"You're driving them too hard."

She didn't even bother to take the time to glare at him.

"No, I'm not."

Instead barely acknowledging his existence in the room.

_I'm not just your Danger Room button-pusher, Raven._

"If you scare them too much, they won't be able to perform."

"I'm not here to talk about their sexual performance, Hank."

_Grrr . . ._

"That was uncalled for, Raven."

Deep breath, try again.

"What I mean is-"

Overruled.

"I know what you meant, Hank. But they have to be ready. For anything. What could be more scary than The World's Oldest Mutant trying to destroy them?"

_You._

But she was gone.

_Shit._

* * *

"Jean is dead. –"

"What the hell, Raven! –"

"No! Jean is dead, her body's on the ground in front of you-"

"Stop it! That's funny!-"

"It's not meant to be funny. It's meant to make you think-"

"I don't want to think if Jean's . . . if Jean's . . ."

"I know. That's the point. You don't want to but in the heat of battle, you can't quit just because you're feelings are hurt. You have to keep going, finish the mission."

"Raven, stop-"

"No. That's just the point. You can't stop. You can't give up. You can't let your emotions get the best of you in any situation."

She stepped away from Jean, supine on the floor in mock death.

"Stop simulation."

Sentinels down. Lights up.

Scott continued to kneel before Jean, heart pounding in earnest even though he knew she fine.

Eyes open and breathing and everything.

But Raven wasn't finished.

"You can't let yourself care for anyone too much. You can't get attached. It makes you weak. It makes you vunerable."

She paused.

"It makes you lose. And then you die."

Another pause.

"Session over."

And then, she was gone.

* * *

"I'm sorry for today, Scott."

"It's okay."

"No, it's not. I didn't realize how much it would affect you."

"Why wouldn't you think it would affect me. I . . . care about you."

"You 'care' about me?"

"Yeah, I care about you. And seeing you laying on the floor like that and the lights swirling and . . ."

Scott Summers' voice trailed off.

Jean's green-eyed locked onto his face.

"I just . . . I just . . ."

And he just couldn't pretend it didn't matter.

"I've lost everybody who's ever meant anything to me. My brother's dead. My parents act like I was never born . . ."

Because it did. It really did. All of it.

"I don't want anything to happen to you too. I . . . I love you."

Anybody paying attention would have seen Jean go paler than she usually was.

It was the first time he had said it.

"You . . . you love me?"

Barely a whisper.

And Scott felt his face grow hot even under his visor.

"Well, yeah, Jean. I love you. You didn't know?"

She didn't reply for a second and he felt dread that he had said too much too soon.

And now it would be awkward and weird and wrong between them.

"Well, no, I . . . I mean . . . I didn't think . . . I love you too, Scott."

He shook his head, humiliation rising.

"You don't have to say it just because I did- aw, god, this is so stupi-"

And Jean's hands rose up to cup his face, still his rising anxiety over being so . . . exposed.

"No, Scott. I'm not. I just . . ."

Her lovely pale face crimsoned, even more so in his ruby quartzed vision.

"I just never felt like I was someone who could be loved. I mean . . . my powers are so . . ."

She stopped, momentarily at a loss.

And then decided to go back to the last thing she had said, thought, that made sense to her.

"I love you, Scott. I really do."

And then she kissed him.

And he . . .

"Oooo, Jean's kissing Scott-"

"Hey, okay, come on, these are not the droids you're looking for, guys, move along-"

"Aww, Peter-"

. . . let her.

* * *

**Thanks to brigid1318 for choosing to review! :)**


End file.
